


Murder in the Palais Garnier

by RainbowDoom



Series: Colette Attempts to Matchmake [1]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Paris (City), Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, The world's most elaborate excuse for a stuck in a closet scene, This was supposed to be a one-shot but I have no chill, a half assed mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-22 18:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19961728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowDoom/pseuds/RainbowDoom
Summary: Colette needs help solving a murder before opening night. So she gets her best sparks on the job. If she's also using it as an excuse to get her two friends together well that's between her and Bangladesh Dupree. Gil's always ready to help a friend and Tarvek just wants to return his library book on time.





	1. A Mystery

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so as tagged there will be a trapped in a closet scene just not in this chapter. Hopefully the next one will be up very soon.

Tarvek was having a very good day. He had handed in his history paper with a smug vindictive glee. His professor had some severely misguided ideas about the establishment of Paris. Ideas, Tarvek had disproved using a history book written by the Master himself. Let’s see Professor Lefou argue that the Master wasn’t a reliable source. Tarvek had been lucky to find the book, it had been purposely mis-shelved in the Library with a fake cover and everything. He’d only found it, because he’d been spying on Tweedle when Gil had appeared around a stack. Not wanting to be caught Tarvek had plucked the nearest book off a shelf and pretended to be enthralled in reading it. Then he realised what he’d been reading and he  _ was  _ enthralled. So, enthralled he’d forgotten all about Tweedle and had almost not noticed that Gil was accompanied by the pretty Spanish girl from their shared electrical circuitry class. 

The librarians hadn’t been at all happy when Tarvek had checked the book out, but Tarvek’s record was spotless. Not a single late book, or a damaged one. Tarvek was probably the only non-librarian spark with a spotless record in all of Paris. If he hadn’t been the Storm King Tarvek figured he’d have been happy working for the library instead. He couldn’t bear the idea of a damaged book, the information that could be lost as a result. The library respected Tarvek as a result and they reluctantly let him keep the book, though only with the promise he’d return it by the end of today.

The paper had been due in the morning and Tarvek didn’t have anything else to do after the class, so he had plenty of time to return the book before the day was out. He made his way cheerfully to his favorite cafe. He’d have a nice lunch and then he’d head down to the library. It was a relatively warm day, and though clouds filled the sky, the air lacked the tang of oncoming rain. Tarvek settled neatly into one of the patio tables content to observe passerby. This part of Paris was mostly filled with students. The cafe itself was primarily populated by government students. The elder children of the noble families of Europa who were both not sparks, nor important enough to be confined to Castle Wulfenbach. 

This was Tarvek’s favorite cafe, partly because it was open all night and partly because the presence of the government students meant Tarvek could stay abreast of politics without any real effort. He was listening to a pair of Hungarian students debate the effect of the Wulfenbach empire on Europan fashions. Mainly the increased influence of eastern europan styles on Parisian fashion houses. Tarvek was debating spinning his chair around to comment on the increased size of buttons when someone settled into the chair across from him. Tarvek looked up from his coffee prepared for a battle of wits and poisons with one of the family, only to be greeted by the welcome sight of Colette Voltaire.

“Good afternoon, your highness.” she smiled at him as one of the waiters deposited a pot of tea in front of her without prompting

“Good day to you as well, Mistress Voltaire.” He smirked slightly around the formal address. 

“Oh touche, Tarvek.” Colette conceded laughing slightly, “How are you? Still writing angry letters to papa about the muses?” 

Tarvek blushed, he’d done that  _ once _ . The sight of the two muses in the Louvre had been shocking and ignited a rage within Tarvek that he didn’t have any way to release. So, in a fugue state he’d sent the Master of Paris a very angry letter. He’d spent the next few days panicking that he was going to get thrown out of Paris. It’d be Castle Wulfenbach all over again 

except this time without the bitter tinge of betrayal. Insead Colette had shown up at his apartment and they’d drunk to the failures of sparks who didn’t respect the work of others. They’d become friends as a result. Which was an achievement to be sure. Colette was a bit younger than Tarvek, but she was brilliant. Tarvek was sure she was a spark even if she hadn’t broken through yet. Colette though was convinced she was not. 

Tarvek decided to ignore the letter writing barb, “Quite well actually, turned in that paper for Lefou.” Tarvek couldn’t keep the smug pride out of his voice.

“Papa’s book was helpful then?” Colette asked sipping her tea.

“It was exactly what I needed.” Tarvek confirmed as the waiter arrived with his lunch. They delivered lunch for Colette as well. It must be nice to be the daughter of the master and not even need to order your own meals. 

“That’s wonderful.” Colette said picking up her sandwich. Though her face said it wasn’t.

Tarvek frowned. Colette hadn’t joined him for lunch to talk and relax, she needed something. She just didn’t know how to ask it of him. Tarvek squashed the bitter disappointment that rose up in him at the realisation. Friends helped each other out, they did favors for each other. Just because Colette needed his help, it didn’t mean they weren’t friends. Tarvek took a deep breath and forced his expression into something sympathetic and caring.

“Colette, what’s wrong?” Tarvek asked.

Colette sighed, “This is going to sound ridiculous.”.

Tarvek snorted, “If it’s bothering you this much, it can hardly be ridiculous.”

It was bothering Colette. Tarvek could see it now that he was looking. Her hands were shaking slightly and she wasn’t making eye contact with him. She was jittery moving about as if she couldn’t bear to sit still. She didn’t look as if she’d been crying, more as if she were angry.

Colette sighed, and ate a bit of her sandwich to give herself an excuse not to talk. Tarvek waited patiently, quietly eating his own lunch as he waited for Colette to figure out what she wanted to say. It took Colette until she’d eaten half her sandwich and most of her soup to start speaking again. Tarvek listened to the fascinating conversation behind him while he waited. 

Finally Colette spoke, “So did you hear about the performance being put on at the Palais Garnier?”

Tarvek had heard, he made sure to keep up with all the latest operas and ballets, and even with the new operettas that were becoming all the rage, “Of course. Isn’t it supposed to be very sympathetic of the Baron?” That wasn’t something that would go over well with the fifty families.

“Yes.” said Colette with annoyance, “Well, there are a number of people invested in making sure it never makes it to opening day.”

Tarvek suspected he was related to quite a few of them.

“Well the playwright is one of my brothers.” Colette whispered that bit.

Tarvek had not known that. Sure a number of the Master’s children were involved in the theater district, but he hadn’t known that one of them had written the play. That was certainly surprising. He’d figured the Master was pretty neutral on the subject of the Baron, in favor of the peace he brought and not really caring so long as he stayed out of Paris. Tarvek of course was against the baron, he was the Storm King after all. So, it was surprising that one of Voltaire’s children would be in favor of it. Though in retrospect it shouldn’t be. Despite living in a panopticon, Paris was full of free thinkers. There was no reason to think that Voltaire’s children weren’t allowed to have their own political opinions. 

“Ah.” said Tarvek.

“The machinations have evolved from stealing props, destroying sets and burning costumes. They’ve started targeting the actors. The leading lady was found dead last night.”

Tarvek was amazed they’d managed to keep that quiet. Madame Bordeaux was one of the best singers in Paris, her death would make the front page of every newspaper in the Empire. Tarvek gasped aloud at the news.

“Toby is freaking out. This is supposed to be his ‘crowning glory’. Now it might not make it until opening day.” Colette sighed, “I hate to ask this of you Tarvek, but you’re a fellow theater lover, you understand the need for competing political viewpoints on stage.”

“Of course.” said Tarvek, the Baron had bought so much support by allowing plays to be critical of him and ignoring his role as comedic sidekick in Heterodyne Boys plays.

“We know that a good portion of the opposers are well..”

“My family.” Tarvek sighed, they were eternally causing problems.

Colette looked relieved that Tarvek had been the one to say it, “Yes, please if you could just help us solve the murder, if we can put someone on trial, it’ll justify more security on the performance.”

“Plus, it’ll make the play front page news, and everyone will want to see it.” Tarvek added.

“And anyone even remotely suspected of preventing it will take all kinds of social backlash.” Colette added, “But if no one is caught soon, the actors might quit for fear of their lives.”

It would also show that the Master’s control on the city was slipping. Tarvek knew that, and there was a good chance other members of the family had noticed. The master had always tolerated the movement of smoke knights, it wasn’t worth preventing them from operating, but he usually controlled their movements more. Violetta had gotten within inches of the muse display in the Louvre. She probably could’ve gotten the display case open if Tarvek hadn’t stopped her. She should’ve never gotten that close. Not if the Master still controlled the entirety of Paris.

“Colette you do realize that even if I figure out which one in particular is responsible, you’d never be able to put them on trial.”

“I know that, but we can put the assassin on trial.” Colette pointed out.

“So long as that's good enough for you,” Tarvek conceded.

“Thank you, Tarvek.” Colette sounded relieved she reached across the table to grip one of his hands in both of hers, “We’ll head over to the theater as soon as your done eating.”

Which meant there would be no time for dessert. “Of course.” said Tarvek and proceeded to quickly scarf down the rest of his meal. Then he dumped enough money for both his and Colette’s meals before they left. Technically, he could’ve just let the Master of Paris pick up the bill. Colette had joined him for lunch to ask for his help. She was a lady though, and Tarvek would feel like an absolute cad if he didn’t pay for her meal. Besides he was a Prince he could afford an extra lunch.

The theater was in chaos when Colette brought him in the stage door. The orchestra was playing a tumultuous tune that seemed to emphasize the movement of people everywhere. Entering the theater was like walking into a wall of noise. On top of the orchestra it seemed everyone was trying to yell at someone else clear across the stage. It filled Tarvek with a certain excited thrill. He tried not to gape too much as he watched familiar actors rush around half in costume half out. The stage hands hauling and moving and painting. A line of chorus boys practiced a jig to the sound of the orchestra. 

Colette led the way through the chaos easily. As they moved people called out greetings to her. They lacked any sort of actual cheer. Though Colette’s responses were filled with false joy. Now that Tarvek was looking for it he could see the underlying tension filling the theater. The tones of the shouts were a little too harsh and the chaos was more than just the regular chaos of a busy workplace. Instead it was underlined with a sense of stress, and running up against a deadline unprepared. The attacks had left the theater struggling and everyone here knew it. How many knew that it had already cost one of them their life?

Eventually they made it into the bowels of the theater where a series of offices and storerooms took up the space. Colette led the way up to one of them and knocked loudly on the door. There was a series of thumps and then the door was pried open. An older man opened the door he had the same dark skin and eyes as Colette, so this must be Tobias Voltaire the playwright. He blinked at them from behind a pair of spectacles.

“Colette! Is this the guard or the detective?” He asked blinking at Tarvek.

Tarvek frowned confused.

“The detective.” Colette answered.

Tobias nodded and moved to let them into the office. The office was smaller than Tarvek had expected. It was cramped with a desk taking up most of the space. A bookshelf was shocked against one wall and a cork board against another, There was one chair for visitors which meant Tarvek would have to stand. He tried not to look disappointed. He hadn’t chosen these shoes this morning with plans to spend time standing around in them. He’d warn them for spending a day in the library. Which he still needed to get to sometime today. Colette’s problem came first though.

“Tobias may I present Prince Tarvek Sturmvoraus.” Colette said sitting down in the visitor’s chair.

“Prince? Colette are you sure?”, Tobias asked running a hand through his hair.

“Of course, Toby. I said I’d help. Tarvek here’s one of the most clever people I know and he’s a fellow liberati.”

“Oh, well then. I trust your judgment.” Tobias Voltaire did not sit down in his desk chair instead he seemed to vibrate in place, “Well, then. It happened last night. Rehearsals went late well past nine, because we were having issues with the effects for the hive queen. Someone had disconnected all the pneumatics. We were on schedule to do a full technical run through work out any timing issues with the effects or custom changes. Then Arnaldo, that’s the director insisted that we stay as late as possible to get it done. Marie stayed even later, because one of her props had gone missing. It’s the theater’s policy that actors are responsible for their props from the moment they pick them off the prop cart until they put them back on the cart. The prop went missing during a costume change and was never returned to the cart, so Marie had to look for it herself. 

“Her understudy Rose, stuck around until 10:30 to help, but left because her boarding house has an 11 pm curfew. She was the last person to see Marie,” Tobias coughed and looked away his voice shook when he said, “Alive.”

There was a heavy silence for a moment and then Tarvek asked, “When was the body found?”

“Ah yes right,” continued Tobias, “The janitor came in at seven this morning to clean up before everybody else came in. He found the Marie in her dressing room sometime between seven thirty and eight. He ran out to call the authorities, but he ran into Anderson and I arriving early. We managed to keep him quiet sent him home with the week’s pay. Then I called Colette.”

“So you, the janitor and Monsieur Anderson have seen the body, anyone else?”

“No just us, the Janitor and I managed to haul her down to the wine cellar and repurpose some of the cooling systems from the kitchen to preserve her. We’ve put the wine cellar off limits, mostly blaming the more recent debacles on employee drunkness.”

“I’d like to see the body first then. Followed by Marie’s dressing room. I’d like to speak to the janitor if that’s possible and Mademoiselle Rose, as well as Monsieur Anderson.” Tarvek directed.

“Of course, I’ll show you to her.” Tobias said looking a little green and moving towards the door.

Colette remained in her chair, “I’ll stay here, this is where I told my second companion to meet us.”

“Ah, yes what was all this about a guard?” Tarvek asked.

Before anyone had a chance to answer the door to the office burst open almost hitting Tobias in the face. Tarvek was surprised enough that it was easy to force a jump at the intrusion. His hand was moving already for a knife when he fully registered the person who had burst into the room. Gilgamesh Holzfaller dressed in a rumpled suit and coatless slammed the door quickly shut behind him and leaned on it just as something thumped into the door. He gave a sheepish smile to the room. Tarvek scowled, but aborted his move to grab a weapon to cross his arms across his chest instead.

“Sorry about that.” said Gil.

After a moment when there were no more thumps at the door Gil moved forward to offer his hand to Tobias. He was smiling that frustratingly guiless sile at Tobias. Gil could convince most of Paris to do whatever he wanted with that smile. Tobias shook Gil’s hand. Tarvek clenched his.

“No worries.” said Tobias sounding confused.

“Ah Gil, there you are. Right on time.” Colette said rising from the chair.

“Of course.” said Gil smiling at her and then his gaze turned to Tarvek and the smile vanished, “What’s  _ he  _ doing here?”

Gil’s voice had dropped to a growl and Tarvek clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to stride across the room and strangle him. Though he pulled himself taller and glared right back.

“He’s helping.” Colette said maneuvering herself neatly between Gil and Tarvek.

Gil determinedly glared at Tarvek over Colette’s head, unperturbed Colette continued, “I’ve asked Gil to act as protection while we solve this mystery.”

“For Mademoiselle Rose, I presume.” Tarvek said trying to keep the hostility out of his voice.

It was possible that Rose also had an understudy, but it was unlikely that under-under study would be at all prepared to take the stage. If the show was to continue they would need this Rose to be able to perform. And as loathe as Tarvek was to admit it Gil was a good man for the job. Oh, sure there was a high probability that Holzfaller’s protection would involve defiling the girl in her dead coworkers dressing room, but she’d be alive. 

“No,” said Colette drawing both Tarvek and GIl’s gazes away from each other, “To protect you.” Colette jabbed Tarvek in the stomach.

“WHAT?!” Tarvek and Gil said in unison.

“Shut up!” said Colette angrily enough to cut off their protests, “Tarvek you are about to get in the way of people who already want you dead for unrelated reasons. And you’ve been having particular trouble with that lately,” Tarvek was currently without a smoke knight something Colette knew because she’d helped hi dispose of the last one’s body, “You are not going to end up dead doing a favor for me.” Tarvek had to swallow the lump in his throat that formed at that Colette  _ cared _ , “Gil.” continued Colette spinning to face him, “You agreed to help. If you no longer wish to that’s up to you. But I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

Gil’s gaze flickered briefly over to Tarvek his frown had turned worried. Then he sighed his entire body slouching into it, “Fine. I’ll protect the weasel.”

“Good. Now I have other things to be doing. Try not to kill each other before you fix this.” Collette flounced out of the room.

Outside the room Gil’s pirate doxy was chatting up one of the stage hands. It was a task that involved pressing him up against a wall and tapping his cheek with a knife. Colette though simply walked up to her, slid her arm around the pirate’s and hauled the woman off. She seemed surprisingly willing to leave with Colette despite her tendency to follow Gil around everywhere. That left the very intimidated Tobias alone with Gila and Tarvek.

“Well, I suppose we should go see the body now.” said Tarvek resigned


	2. An Assasin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no closet. But protective Gil!

It turned out that it was incredibly useful to have Gil along when examining a body. While Tarvek was well trained in recognizing the signs of different poisons on corpses. Gil though was an actual medical student. He recognized that despite the very obvious stab wound in Madam stomach she’d actually been strangled to death with a garrote. The bruises were hidden under the collar of the actress’s dress where Tarvek would’ve never thought to look. Gil though had taken one look at the stab wound and determined it wasn’t the cause of death and methodically set about examining the body.

His examination had also revealed that Madam Bordeaux had been stealing jewelry from the costume closet, she had a pocket stuffed full of beautifully crafted fake gems and pearls. It also revealed that the actress had a tattoo of a rather sad looking puppy on one breast. It looked to be a cover up job for another, simpler tattoo. Though Tarvek couldn’t make out what it was. He did notice while Gil was searching for wounds that the dress Madam Bordeaux was wearing was from a rather prominent fashion house the kind of thing an actress no matter how good should never have been able to afford. 

A gift perhaps? Or maybe she was fencing off the stolen costume jewelry as the real thing. If she lowered the price just the right amount she could probably manage to sell it to a good portion of the university students and some of the lower nobility. The kind of people who wanted to be seen wearing more jewels than they could reasonably afford. Tarvek doubted that racket was good enough to afford the dress Madam Bordeaux was wearing. Especially if she was wearing it as an everyday dress. Tarvek wondered what she’d been doing prior to becoming an opera singer.

Other than the tattoo and garrotte wound, Gil discovered nothing else of interest on the body. Though he claimed it was likely there had been more than one attacker. Tobias spent the whole time in the corner of the wine cellar, pointedly not looking at the body. It was probably disturbing to an ordinary man to see a coworker laid out like that with a gaping wound in their chest while two strangers poked and prodded at them. When Gil was finished they carefully put the dress back on the body and covered it back up with the sheet.

“Well then the dressing room next, I think.” said Tarvek washing his hands in a bowl Gil had sent Tobias to fetch earlier.

Gil hipped checked Tarvek out of the way so he could wash his hands as well. Tobias still pointedly not looking over at them nodded.

“Right away.”

Tarvek strode after Tobias not waiting for Gil to finish washing his hands. It was silly of him. Gil was there to make sure Tarvek didn’t end up with a knife in the back. The fact of the matter was that despite Tarvek being more skilled than Colette, Gil, his family or anyone else thought, he did need the protection. He’d gone through fourteen smoke knights despite arriving in Paris only nine months ago and he’d spent one of those months back in Sturmhalten for the winter solstice. The last smoke knight had only lasted a week. Tarvek had yet to get another one. He was immensely glad he’d sent Violetta away before coming to Paris.

When Gil did catch up he pointedly wiped his still wet hands on the back of Tarvek’s coat. Tarvek jerked at the sudden touch and pulled away before Gil could properly dry his hands. In a fit of disgust Tarvek tore off the coat and flung it at Gil’s head. Gil didn’t dodge the coat and instead plucked it out of the air and put it on. How he got Tarvek’s perfectly tailored coat on over his ridiculously broad shoulders without ripping the seams was a mystery. Gil looked ridiculous. Tarvek’s maroon coat clashed terribly with the mint green waistcoat Gil was wearing. It was an assault on the eyeballs, and Tarvek couldn’t tear his gaze away. 

Thankfully, they arrived quickly at the dressing room. Tobias opened the door and moved aside to let them in. Effectively distracted, Tarvek managed to look away from the fashion disaster that was Gil Holzfaller and focus on the task at hand. The dressing room was a mess. A rack of costumes had been scattered across the floor. The chair by the vanity flung across the room and the mirror on said vanity was smashed. There had clearly been a fight, and a rough one at that. It didn’t look at all like a smoke knight had attacked.

“Damn, she put up a fight.” said Gil intelligibly.

“Was it like this when you found the body?” Tarvek asked Tobias. 

“Pretty much. We removed a couple of the costumes so Rose could get fitted, but they were already all over the floor.”

Which meant the crime scene had been disturbed. Still, Gil was right Madam Bordeaux had put up a hell of a fight. As best he could tell she’d been seated at the vanity. Probably caught sight of her attacker in the mirror and ducked before a thrown knife could hit her. The knife would’ve clattered against the table. It wasn’t there, but if she’d grabbed the knife herself...hmmm. Tarvek closes his eyes and pictures it. Madam Bordeaux ducks to dodge the knife. Then she turns around to put her back to the wall and face her attacker. Judging by the mirror cracks, the angle of the attack would’ve been from behind the costume rack. The attacker would’ve given up on stealth and tossed aside the rack.

So, Madam Bordeaux grabs the knife. However the attacker would have already been moving before she could turn all the way around. Tarvek remembered the chair, which was clear on the other side of the room. So she kicked it, she’d had strong enough legs. The attacker deflected it. Wait. A smoke knight would have dodged. No, a smoke knight would’ve thrown another knife. A smoke knight would have cleaned up their mess. A smoke knight did not kill Madam Bordeaux.

Colette had seemed sure family was involved. Tarvek stared at the room. This was a fight between to heavy hitters. Not a stealth agent and an actress. The room had more in common with one that had been a victim of Hurricane Gilgamesh than one of the ones Tarvek had been almost assassinated in. Well, just because it wasn’t a smoke knight didn’t mean it wasn’t family. They could higher other assassins, especially if they wanted to make it look like it wasn’t them. Or if it was one of the less powerful members of the family who couldn’t afford to send a smoke knight as an assassin against a theater. 

Tarvek was missing something.

“Tobias any chance I could get a look at the script? I’m thinking this is about more than a show being sympathetic to the Baron.”

“Wait, is that what this is about?” Gil asked standing up from where he’d been examining the blood stains on the carpet. 

“Did Colette not tell you?” Tarvek asked.

“No.” grumbled Gil petulantly.

Tarvek sighed. Colette probably hadn’t had to tell Gil anything. She’d probably just said she needed help and that had been enough. Gil was a sucker for a pretty face, what with his pirate doxy and dance hall girls. Colette at least was immune to Gil’s particular brand of charm and seemed to view him as an overenthusiastic puppy. Fun to play with and a useful guard, but nothing more. Gil didn’t seem to mind though, he like Colette for her brilliant mind. Something Tarvek couldn’t begrudge him for,because he liked her for the same reason. 

Tobias bit his lip then looked around at the dressing room before nodding, “Yeah, I’ll get it. Meanwhile, you can check out rehearsal. If your done in here. Rose is on stage right now, but when they break you can talk to her.”

“Yes I think I’m done here. Thank you.”

Tobias nodded and left. Tarvek took one last look around the room and then walked over to the tumble of clothes and plucked up a hat. Underneath was the knife. He pulled out a handkerchief and carefully wrapped it up before sliding into a pocket on his waist coat. He was annoyed at no longer having his coat to secret away in. He could put it right next to his own knives. It was then that he remembered Gil was wearing his coat. His coat full of secret pockets, and poisons and weapons. 

Tarvek turned to Gil who sure enough was slouched against the wall with his hands in the pockets of Tarvek’s coat. He frowned at Tarvek then smirked before pulling a miniaturized death ray out of a pocket and waggling it. Tarvek wanted to snatch the death ray back, but it was too big to fit anywhere on his person. He was forced to scowl at Gil instead. Gil tucked the death ray back into the pocket.

“And here I thought you were wandering around alone and unarmed with a target on your back.” Gil said conversationally as they left the dressing room.

“Unlike you, I don’t have a death wish.” Tarvek retorted.

“I don’t have a death wish!” Gil replied offended.

“Could’ve fooled me with the way you run into buildings that are already on fire.” 

“That was only twice and people were still inside!” Gil was petulant now.

Tarvek stopped dead he’d meant the comment as a metaphor, “You actually ran into a burning building twice! Are you insane?”

“I ran into two differnt burning buildings,” grumbled Gil, “I had to go back in more than twice.”

Tarvek could feel his face turning red, “YOU IMBECILE!” he started then he caught sight of a movement behind Gil.

Without really thinking about it Tarvek stepped forward and shoved Gil sideways. Gil grabbed him as he did yanking Tarvek into him. The two of them banged into the wall Tarvek’s face mashed into Gil’s chest as a bullet went through the space where Gil’s head had been and slammed into a support beam. The hallway they were in ran from the back rooms out into the house and had been otherwise empty a few moments before. Tarvek had just barely caught sight of a figure stepping out from behind one of the support beams before moving Gil.

Gil reacted to the bullet by curling around Tarvek and shoving them both to the ground. For a handful of seconds Gil was wrapped around Tarvek in what was almost like a hug. His body was ridiculously warm and the scent of Tarvek’s hair oil, which always clung resolutely to his clothes, mixed with the smell of Gil’s cologne to form a heady scent. Then Gil was pulling Tarvek’s death ray out of the coat pocket and returning fire. 

Tarvek tried to twist around to see what was happening, but Gil wrapped his free arm tight around Tarvek’s shoulders.

“Stay down!”

There was the sound of another shot going off from the assassins conventional gun. Followed quickly by a zap from the death ray. Gil dragged them both backwards moving them into a doorway. Another shot came from the assassin followed by two from Gil. Then there was the telltale sound of the death ray shorting out. 

“Damn it.” said Gil when the death ray didn’t fire again.

Then came the sound of running footsteps fading into the distance. The attacker was getting away. Tarvek yanked himself out of Gil’s grip and shot to his feet to pursue them. Gil grabbed him again this time by the bicep.

“What the hell are you doing?” Gil growled.

“He’s getting away!” Tarvek yelled back trying to yank out of Gil’s grip.

Gil though was ridiculously strong and held on, “He’s trying to kill you! You idiot, if you go after him your just making his job easier.”

“He shot at you, you ingrate.” Tarvek retorted.

“Because I’m wearing your coat!” 

Tarvek stopped pulling away. That actually made sense. Tarvek was used to being identified by his hair, and Gil’s was distinctly different. However, the hallway they were in was lit by gas lamps, not electrical lights. Most of the back rooms of the theater were lit by gas. Theater’s didn’t turn the kind of profits that made renovating the back rooms a priority. The wine cellar had been similarly lit. In the dim lighting Gil’s light brown hair did look a little like auburn. Enough that an assassin wouldn’t have realised he had the wrong mark. Tarvek with no coat and his sleeves rolled up from the heat didn’t look like a prince. 

“That wasn’t whomever has been trying to kill me. Too loud.” Tarvek pointed out.

Gil frowned, “Madam Bordeaux’s killer?”

“More likely. An attack of opportunity perhaps?”

Gil chewed on his lip then dug out a multitool from his pants pocket and popped open the casing on Tarvek’s gun. Tarvek really, really wanted to find out what had gone wrong with his death ray, but now was a terrible time for a fugue. Tarvek couldn’t afford to be distracted. Gil on the other hand seemed to be better at fighting off attackers when in the grips of a spark fugue. He’d once seen Gil take down his pirate doxy when deconstructing a spark weapon. It had only been for a moment. But immediately after Dupree had decided harassing Tarvek who was still tied up against one wall was more worth her time than attacking Gil again. 

“Come on, let’s head out to the house, we’ll be less likely to be attacked there.” Tarvek said.

Gil nodded though his attention was firmly on the death ray. Tarvek had to drag him a few feet, before Gil got the idea and followed dutifully along. The death ray kept him quiet which meant Tarvek was alone with his thoughts. They did not focus on the murder, but instead on the incident that had just occured. Tarvek found his thoughts stuck determinedly on the memory of Gil curling protectively over him. It had been an instinctual move; the kind of thing one did without thinking about needing to do it. Gil had a hero complex and a protective streek, Tarvek had seen him do similar things for plenty of other people he’d rescued from rampaging sparks. There was nothing special about it at all. 

Tarvek told himself firmly that Gil would’ve done the same for anyone, that it hadn’t occurred to him that Tarvek was the one he was protecting. Still the incident played over in his mind. Tarvek pushed his focus to something else, the coat. He’d flung it at Gil impulsively. However, it wasn’t the first time that Gil had ruined one of Tarvek’s coats and Tarvek had responded by throwing it at him. It was entirely possible that had been Gil’s goal when he’d wiped his hands on Tarvek’s back. It was possible that Gil had noticed the way the gas lamps made it difficult to see colors and details of people at a distance and realised the most distinctive thing about Tarvek in that lighting was his coat. Then that he had decided the best course of action was to wear the coat and make himself the target.

It was the kind of foolishly selfless and dangerous thing that Gil did almost by reflex. He’d done it for Tarvek though, and damn it that meant something. What that something was though was the question. Was Gil so dedicated to protecting Tarvek, because Colette had asked him to? Was it because protecting people was what Gil did? Or was he doing it for Tarvek’s sake? Tarvek already knew that Gil didn’t want him dead, he’d rescued him enough for that. But usually he did so with a healthy side dose of mocking. Now though, Gil seemed strangely serious. Tarvek didn’t know what made this situation different. 

Before Tarvek could begin to overthink the whole thing they arrived at the house. They were at the back of the orchestra seating and from there the actors were difficult to see. The girl on stage singing though had a powerful enough voice that it rang clear even from where Gil and Tarvek were standing. The acoustics of the theater were of course superb, but from this far back one usually had to struggle to make out individual words. Tarvek could hear every word clearly; the singer was magnificent. He’d had the pleasure of seeing Madam Bordeaux perform before, but this girl put her to shame.

Interesting that her understudy was so talented. The singing was even good enough to pull Gil’s attention away from the death ray. Gil had always been fond of music, one of the first things the two had made together was a music box. It was surprising to Tarvek that Gil had no patience for Opera. Instead he did hang around dance halls and even attended the occasional symphony. For a minute the two of them simply stood and listened. Then the song came to an end. A single set of applause rang out.

“Very good! Very good!” exclaimed the man who must be Monsieur Anderson the director.

“Now for the choreography!” the director leapt onto the stage and began to direct Rose about .

“What play is this again?” Asked Gil.

“It’s an opera, you dolt. And I thought you hated opera.”

“So did I.” said Gil entranced.

That made Tarvek angry, “Oh no you don’t. You are not derailing my investigation so you can seduce some poor innocent girl and an important suspect.”

“I- what? Don’t be ridiculous!” spluttered Gil turning red, then he paused, “Wait. Suspect?”

“Mademoiselle Rose,” explained Tarvek gesturing to the girl on stage who was singing parts of the song while practicing the choreography, “was Madam Bordeaux’s understudy and the last to see her alive.”

“I thought this was about politics.” Gil said though he was eyeing the actress suspiciously now. 

“Colette thought it was. Some of the other problems the show has been having are a result of that. It’s normal for theaters here. Colette assumed the murder was an escalation.”

“Huh.” said Gil as he closed the casing on the death ray, “You used some cheap wire on this.”

“It was a spur of the moment idea, I didn’t have anything good on hand.” Tarvek said refusing to be ashamed.

“It looked like you cannibalized an alarm clock.”

“I did.”

The two stood in silence for a bit after that. Tarvek was reluctant to sit down aware of someone in the theater who had just tried to kill him. They were in a good spot right then and Tarvek was loathe to move from it. They had their backs against the wall and multiple exits. They could see anyone coming at them, but were also partially obscured by the balconies and seating. There was also the dubious protection of witnesses. 

Gil must have also been aware of the advantage of their position, because he reacted to the sound of someone coming down the hallway they’d come from. Gil moved to position himself in front of Tarvek, the death ray ready in his hand. Tarvek shifted slightly ready to make a dive behind a marble pillar if the opportunity called for it. They waited silently for the door to open. It revealed only Tobias clutching a stack of papers to his chest and breathing heavy.

“Oh you’re alright! There were bullet holes and blast marks in the hallway.” Tobias said looking relieved.

“Someone tried to kill Tarvek.” GIl replied tucking the death ray into a pocket. 

“Oh! Your Highness, are you alright?” Tobias asked stepping forward.

Gil though was still very much in the way and didn’t look inclined to move. Tarvek sighed and forced his way in front of Gil. He was forced to squeeze past the wall and elbow Gil to make him move aside enough to let him through. Inconsiderate brute, didn’t even realise how much space he was taking up .

“Is that the script?” Tarvek asked holding out his hands for the pile of papers.

“Ah yes. This is the final draft. All the printed ones have been handed out to the cast and crew. I’m afraid you’ll be forced to wrangle with my handwriting.”

Tarvek glanced down at the paper’s as he took them. Despite Tobias’s warning the handwriting on the page was crisp and orderly. There were very few ink spots, though there were still cross outs and edits, some of which were crammed into the margins. 

“Oh not at all your handwriting is superb.”

“Oh thank you.” Tobias said glancing down, “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Yes, actually.” Tarvek replied already thumbing through the pages, “Could you find out where everyone was at 3:47? That’s when we were being shot at.”

“Oh, of course.” said Tobias who quickly rushed off.

“When did you have time to check your watch?” Gil asked.

“When you were manhandling me.” retorted Tarvek.

Gil glowered for a second, but went to take a seat. After a brief moment of hesitation Tarvek sat next to him. He despised having to sit so close to his nemesis, but he needed Gil’s protection. If Tarvek got too engrossed in the script he might not notice an attack fast enough. Gil didn’t comment on Tarvek’s choice in seating and instead kept his focus on the stage where Rose had started to sing in earnest again. His hand, Tarvek noticed, was still tucked into the pocket with the death ray. Reassured Tarvek turned his focus to the script.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to have the next chapter up tomorrow but I promise nothing


	3. A Suspect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point in time I would like to apologize for knowing absolutely nothing about Opera, and for the general half-assed ness of this mystery. I like writing mysteries, but I'm still working out the giving enough clues but not too many and also creating red herrings balance. Anyways on with the show

“Well, that was enlightening.” Tarvek said as he finished the script.

“Care to share?” asked Gil.

Tarvek who had rather enjoyed reading the opera, even if Opera’s weren’t really designed to be read was happy to oblige, “Well it’s a story about a Princess whose city is under siege by revenants. The princess though happens to be a spark and builds a clank army to fight the revenants. But one of her lords who had been loyal to her father destroys the clanks. It turns out the girl’s father had been in league with the other and there's actually a hive in the basement of the castle. The girl gets chained up in the basement of course so the slaver wasps can get her, but she escapes before the hive is activated. She attacks the lord openly in the middle of the market alerting all the people to the conspiracy. That’s the bit she’s been practicing,” Tarvek nodded towards the stage, “The Lord sends his men to attack the princess. Of course that’s when the Baron arrives. The Baron rescues the princess and stops the revenants. She tells them about the hive in the basement. Of course it’s already been activated. Both the Princess and the Baron are sparks so they're immune to the slaver wasps, so they alone have to fight the wasp queen. They do, but it’s a close call. The town is saved and the princess concedes the town to the protection of the empire. Her and the Baron kiss; curtain.”

“Ew,” says Gil making a face.

Tarvek who had trouble picturing the Baron as anything more than an ancient mountain of a man bearing down on him agreed, “Quite.”

“Well, I see how its sympathetic to the empire, but it clearly takes place back when the empire was still being founded.” Gil pointed out.

“Yes and the princess is carefully designed to not be alluding to any real person.” Tarvek added, “It’s sympathetic to the empire, but only as in the Baron saved people from revenants.” 

The opera was actually the most accurate depiction of the other war ever made. The conspiracy the Princess’s father and the lord had been involved in with the other was eerily similar to the actual conspiracy Tarvek’s father was involved in. Actually, with the exception of the romance with the Baron, Tarvek could see similar events occurring to Anveka, in the case of Tarvek’s untimely death. Anveka though knew about the conspiracy, but you can’t have your heroine knowing about her father’s evil deeds, let alone actively participating.

The opera would be concerning to the Knights of Jove. They wouldn’t want people thinking about the possibility of nobility actively assisting the Other with their machinations. Tarvek didn’t know for sure how much the Master knew about what was going on. He didn’t think the Master knew about the real conspiracy, but he wasn’t positive. If he did know, would he have let it slip to his son the playwright, so he could make an Opera about it? Or was it a coincidence? There was nothing unique about the play, though the heroine was rather more proactive than heroines in opera tended to be. Tarvek didn’t know, and he definitely couldn’t share his worries with Gil.

Gil looked like he was going to ask anyways. He had an annoying habit of reading Tarvek like a book. As if ten years of separation had done nothing to break the connection between the two of them. Tarvek hated it, because that connection had been torn apart by Gil. Tarvek hated feeling like he was still so weak as to allow Gil to break him like that again. Thankfully, before Gil could try to pry Tarvek’s secrets out of him the Director hollered filling the empty theater with his voice.

“Alright everyone, take five!”

“That’s are cue.” said Tarvek standing quickly.

He strode quickly down the aisle to the steps leading up to the stage. He could feel Gil behind him glowering at his back. Tarvek was used to that though and ignored it. The orchestra gave them curious looks as they made their way onstage and into the wings. Rose was sitting in a chair desperately downing a glass of water. Tarvek approached her slowly as to not intimidate her. She didn’t seem to notice them until after she finished her glass of water.

“Oh. Hello.” she said when she noticed Tarvek and Gil.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle, would you mind if we asked you a few questions?”

“Um, sure?” said Rose looking confused then something clicked in her head, “Oh! Is this about Marie?”

A few heads swiveled to them from the crew sitting around in the wings. It would be best to have this conversation elsewhere. Tarvek didn’t know what line Tobias and/or Anderson had fed everyone about Madam Bordeaux, but he doubted they all knew she was dead. If they did there was no way the news wouldn’t make the evening papers. He’d better move this conversation elsewhere.

“Is there somewhere else we could speak?” Tarvek asked.

Rose’s gaze flickered to Gil briefly and she blushed. Tarvek tried not to think about what expression Gil might be wearing on his face just then. Tarvek just smiled his most winning smile and hoped that Rose would move before they attracted more attention. 

“Oh, yes of course.” Rose stood up and led them out of the wings back into the back rooms. 

They walked right past Madam Bordeaux’s dressing room on the way. Rose glanced at it briefly before moving on. They moved all the way to the depths of the back rooms, to a tiny closet of a room that was dying to be refurbished. It had only a single chair and a mirror, a rack with a couple costumes on it was jammed against one wall. It was clearly a makeshift dressing room, probably a converted closet given to Rose.

Rose stood awkwardly by the mirror as Gil squeezed into the room behind them and firmly shut the door. Tarvek gestured Rose to the seat, she sat down gratefully. The room was a tight fit for all three of them Tarvek moved over to one corner next to the costume rack and Gil stood sentry with his back pressed against the door. 

“Now Mademoiselle. We were told you were the last person to leave the theater last night, except Madam Bordeaux.” Tarvek began.

“That’s right. She lost the death ray from the Act 1 climax. There’s a quick costume change from the lab scene to the one at the city walls, so she didn’t have time to return it to the prop cart. She said she left it on her chair, but when the intermission started it wasn’t there.”

“So Madam Bordeaux was obliged to stay late looking for it?” Tarvek prompted.

“Oh yes Miss Fitch, that’s the prop master, is very strict about it. Everyone’s responsible for their own props. If Marie couldn’t find it she’d have to get a replacement for the show herself, and pay for the cost of the original.” Rose explained.

“I imagine this means everyone’s very particular about keeping track of their props.” Tarvek thought aloud, “Did anyone see Madam Bordeaux put the prop on her chair?”

“Greta did, she’s Marie’s costumer. Mine now, I suppose” Rose paused for a moment then continued, “She said Marie knew the change would be fast and they’d decided that if she put it down on her chair she wouldn’t forget it later.”

“So Greta saw her put it there.” 

Rose nodded. Tarvek hummed thoughtfully. If someone wanted to kill the lead actress, snatching her prop and forcing her to stay late to look for it was a good way to do it. It would be easy to blend in amongst all the stage crew and performers especially in the dim lighting of the wings. That was supposing it was someone who wasn’t supposed to be there. Any of the actual performers or stage hands could be responsible. 

“So you stayed to help look for it?” Tarvek continued.

“Well yes. Marie’s never lost a prop before, and Greta was so sure she’d put it on the chair. I thought well…” Rose suddenly looked nervous.

“It’s alright Rose, we’re just trying to help.” Tarvek prompted relaxing his posture to put rose more at ease.

“I’m not a gossip. I don’t talk about these things normally. But…I’ve worked at plenty of other theaters before this one and stuff goes missing, or breaks, or gets switched out. It’s a high stress environment and there’s never as many people as you need. I mean they still don’t know what happened to the roller skating giraffe, and that thing is huge.”

When Rose stopped talking to wring her hands, Tarvek just waited. He wondered what had happened to the giraffe. 

“But here” Rose finally continued, “Everything’s gone wrong. They’ve had to rebuild the set for the lab three times. The costumes are always getting misplaced or mysteriously damaged. And well, people have been talking.” Rose stopped again.

Tarvek nodded along, it was unsurprising that people had picked up on the sabotage that was happening. Rose probably didn’t want to start throwing around blame, especially if she had any idea who Tarvek was. 

“Well, there have been rumors of a, a…” Rose took a deep breath before saying a little loudly, “A Ghost!”

Tarvek had to actively resist the urge to face palm. Instead he closed his eyes briefly and counted to ten. He could hear Gil coughing to cover up his laughter. Rose’s face had gone red and she looked embarrassed. 

“I know it’s silly, but things keep going missing or getting moved or damaged. Plus sometimes, it feels like there’s someone right behind you, but you look and no one’s there. I’m not overly superstitious, but it did seem cruel to force Marie to search all alone in the theater at night, if it really was haunted.”

It was entirely possible that Rose was sensing a smoke knight who had been sent to sabotage the play. Colette was sure there was at least one. Tarvek could see how a layman would notice the effects of a smoke knight’s presence and draw the conclusion that it was a ghost. Tarvek wondered how often that happened. How many reported hauntings were actually covert operations? Hmmm. He’d have to do a study. That could be an interesting side project, but he was getting distracted.

“But you did end up leaving Marie alone.” Tarvek continued the interrogation.

“My boarding house is a respectable place. The girls are expected to be in by eleven. I can’t afford to not make curfew, my landlady already has qualms about renting to an actress. As if being an actress made someone equivalent to a wh- a scarlet lady.” Rose blushed again her eyes flickered to Gil and then down to her lap, “I told Marie to leave it, we could come back early today and look for it. But she refused. And now, now!” Rose burst promptly into tears.

Tarvek sighed they wouldn’t be getting anything else out of the girl now. He dug into his pants pocket for a handkerchief to hand to the girl. That was two handkerchiefs he’d gone through today. Rose took it and blew. Then stared in despair at how her makeup had smeared across the surface.

“Oh no! I have to go, I’m sorry!”

She stood up and rushed for the door holding the handkerchief over her face to hide it. Gil for his part, got out of the way and even opened the door for the poor girl. Once she was gone Gil shut the door again and turned to Tarvek. 

“A ghost?”

Tarvek took off his glasses and began to clean them, “Someone’s been sabotaging production. That’s what everyone's been noticing, there’s certainly no ghost. Curious though, that she would think of that and not sabotage.”

“She’s not still a suspect is she?” Gil asked.

“Not after that little display no.” Tarvek said putting his glasses back on.

“She’s an actress.” Gil said, though he seemed unsure of the statement.

“Yes, and if that little scene had been meant to earn our sympathy, she would’ve remembered not to smear her makeup. After all, she seemed to be trying to make a good impression on you.”

“What?” said Gil looking confused.

“Honestly Holzfaller, drop the innocent act you aren’t fooling anyone.” 

Tarvek pushed Gil out of the way so he could exit the room. It was getting close to five pm and Tarvek still had to make it to the library sometime that day. Gil followed sullenly in his wake. Tarvek only had to ask two people before he found Greta in a costume closet ironing a dress. She didn’t so much as look up from her work when they came in.

“Monsieur Voltaire said we were to answer any of your questions, but I’ve got a dozen more dresses that need to be pressed by the end of today, so make it quick.”

Tarvek appreciated that, “Right. We were told you saw Madam Bordeaux put her prop on her chair.”

“I did. Lord knows she was too drunk to remember to do it herself. It was there when I went back to fix the oil stains on the lab coat, Anderson said they couldn’t be seen from the box seats. Like the up and ups want to see oil stains.” Greta snorted, “Then when I came back to help with the intermission costume change it was gone.”

Madam Bordeaux had a drinking problem. Who knew. Greta apparently. Probably everybody if she was willing to speak of it so casually.

“Any idea where it could have went?”

“I reckon the same place all the other missing stuff has gone. Someone wants to make sure Monsieur Voltaire’s show never makes it in front of an audience. The tables have turned on them though. Marie was a good singer, but she’s past her prime. She can barely make it through rehearsal but for the pain in her feet. Those shoes kill a woman when she has to spend all day and night dancing in them. The alcohol was for that, Marie’s no alcoholic.” Greta shook her head “Rose will fill far more seats, especially with that face of hers. Whatever they used to convince her to run off she’s probably better off for it. Nothing fuels star power like a mysterious disappearance. Anything else?”

So that was the story they’d fed everyone, except Rose apparently. “No, that’s all.”

“Good now get out.”

They got out. Tarvek stood in the hallway and thought for a moment. He was beginning to think Madam Bordeaux’s death wasn’t the result of sabotage. Rose was better. She didn’t have the pull of Madam Bordeaux’s name though. People came to see the famous Madam Bordeaux preform, as good as Rose was, she was a nobody. This was a new opera so it wouldn’t attract fans, and the Palais Garneir was a well known theater, but it wasn’t the best. They certainly weren’t advertising that it had been written by a Voltaire. 

“I think we should speak to Director Anderson next.” Tarvek said.

“What about the janitor?” Gil asked.

“I don’t think he can tell us anything about this that we don’t already know.”

“You think it was an inside job.”

Tarvek hadn’t been quite sure about it, but having Gil come to the same conclusion was reassuring. There was a reason Gil was in the cryptology club, and all the ones dedicated to sussing out the mechanisms of Paris. He was the only person in the whole city who could keep up with Tarvek. Which he despised. But he did trust Gil’s judgement. If Gil also thought it wasn’t the saboteurs responsible, then it wasn’t. Still, the opera’s plot was very concerning. He turned it over in his mind while they made their way back to the house.

Fortunately, “take five” didn’t mean take a five minute break. The director was flipping through a copy of the script making notations when they found him. His copy of the script was neatly type set and kept in a binder. He’d clearly used three different colors of ink for his notations as well. He looked up at their approach.

“Ah, you must be the private detective Tobias hired. I thought there would be only one of you.”

Huh. The director hadn’t been kept in the loop. That was interesting.

“Two heads are better than one. Even if the second head belongs to a brute.”

Instead of arguing Gil grunted and slouched like proper hired muscle. So, they were on the same page. Very good.

“I don’t know about that.” Anderson grumbled, “Well, what can I help you with then?”

“Monsieur Voltaire thinks a group of anti-Empire fanatics have been actively sabotaging the show.”

Anderson nodded his jaw set, “Yes. That’s right. It’s normal of course with new shows. Everyone’s got an opinion and ‘how dare you be sympathetic to the other side’.” Anderson snorted, “The more controversial the show though, the more people want to see it. This one is hardly controversial. Sure the Baron’s the hero, but he’s only fighting wasps not putting down a mad spark or a rebellion. Plus the Princess wants his help.” Anderson shook his head, “Yet, this is the one they want to kill. We keep Tobias’s name off the bills as a matter of course. You don’t want to slap the Master’s name on things. The performers and crew know of course, and anyone who thinks to ask, but that’s it. Never been a real problem before. But this is his most pro-empire piece yet.”

“You think this is about the show being written by a Voltaire?” Tarvek asked.

“Only thing I can think of that makes this worse than that bit they did down at the Rouge about Teufel’s lot.”

Tarvek did not look at Gil. He hoped, that if at some point the Baron had told Gil about his parentage, that Gil was not showing any sign of it on his face right now. That would be very very bad. Especially, with a smoke knight skulking around somewhere. 

“Yes, I suppose this is far less demonstrably political. Well, if they thought to kill it by taking out your leading lady they miscalculated. Her understudy is fantastic.”

“Stroke of luck that.” grumbled Anderson, “Any idea what group wants it dead? Supporters of the Gilded Duke perhaps?”

“Oh, no.” said Tarvek pretending not to notice the abrupt subject change, “It’s not that.”

Tarvek needed a fall guy. Something to assure Anderson that they had picked up the trail he wanted. He couldn’t point his finger at one of the family. He already had a big enough target on his back as it was. Besides whomever was sabotaging the play was probably on his side. Well, when something went wrong in Paris there was only one group to blame.

“Did you know Madam Bordeaux was a cartographer?”

“What? No.” Anderson said looking shocked, and then like everything suddenly made sense.

“Yes. Bad business that. Fortunately the assassin seems to still be lurking around here. We’ll sniff him out and that will be that. Probably worried about her being so close to a Voltaire. No need to sabotage the play now that she’s out of the way.” Tarvek said that last bit probably a bit too loudly.

The plot of the show was problematic, but no one was going to be talking about the plot. Not when the lead actress had been murdered and her replacement was such an astonishing singer. Sabotage would only make people wonder about what would be worth sabotaging. Not everyone would come to a conclusion that it was Voltaire as the playwright. 

“Well, get on with it then.” Anderson said.

Tarvek bowed then swept out of the room. He hurried down the hallway weaving in and out of people using the maze of sets and dressing rooms to his advantage. He had to lose his tail. He plucked a discarded black coat of one of the crew and put it on. Gil followed suit and pulled off Tarvek’s coat. He rolled up his sleeves as well and ditched Tarvek’s coat on a costume rack. Tarvek plucked a cap from another costume rack and tucked his hair into it. They wove through the backstage area some more than slipped into Anderson’s office. 

“You think Anderson did it?” Gil asked once the door shut.

“Yes. Madam Bordeaux couldn’t do the choreography. That’s why Rose had to learn it today, because it hadn’t been in the show before. Greta said her feet hurt from dancing, that she was drinking to mask the pain. An opera with a lead lady who can’t dance? Disastrous. Not to mention Rose’s talent.” Tarvek said shuffling through papers.

“What, so he hired an assassin? Why didn’t he just fire her?”

“Ticket sales. People bought tickets to see Madam Bordeaux, not some new opera by an unnamed playwright. If he fired her they wouldn’t come. But if she was murdered as part of a conspiracy to stop the play from being shown? Well that would mean everyone had to see it.”

“I suppose that makes sense, in a backstabbing weasel sort of way. But most people’s first solutions to problems aren’t murder.”

Tarvek ignored the dig, “I don’t think he came to the conclusion on his own.”

“So who talked him into it?”

“That’s the real question.” Tarvek said, “The cartographers maybe.”

“I thought that was a line you fed Anderson.”

“It was, but that tattoo Madam Bordeaux had? It’s a coverup.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Tarvek snorted, “Too busy admiring the canvas?”

“What?” Gil fumed, “No! For fuck’s sake Sturmvarous she was dead.”

“Ah yes, I forgot your type was any woman with a pulse.”

Tarvek glanced up from his shuffling smug. He’d found what he was looking for and scored a point against Gil. He watched as Gil opened his mouth to retort face red and then his mouth slammed abruptly shut. Tarvek was just about to make a pithy comment about rendering him speechless when Gil’s face went serious. 

“Someone’s coming”

The director’s office was set well back from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the back rooms of the theater. No one else should be back here. Which meant either Anderson or the assassin were coming. They needed somewhere to hide quick. Tarvek glanced around, but Gil was already moving. He grabbed Tarvek and hauled him over to the other door in the room and opened it to reveal a mostly empty closet, save for what must be Anderson’s overcoat and hat. The closet was large enough to hide one man, but not two. Gil didn’t seem to care he just shoved Tarvek in and stuffed himself after. The closet door clicked shut just as the office door opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so sorry if the Anderson thing was obscure or too obvious. But next chapter is closet! I don't know how much work I'll do writing this weekend so it might not be up till Monday. Sorry.


	4. A Closet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Sorry this is late. Monday was shitty I came home at like 6 went immediately to bed and slept until 8 this morning. It's been 25 hours since I've eaten, so I expect the rest of the week to be equally shitty. But finally the closet scene!

The closet was definitely too small for the two of them. Tarvek was glad he’d managed to spin around before Gil clambered in, because otherwise his face would have been jammed up against the wall. Instead he ended up with his chin in Gil’s shoulder. Which at least meant he could breathe. Though breathing was inadvisable as the scent from earlier was stronger in the confines of the closet, and frustratingly intoxicating. Tarveks hands, still clutching the papers he’d discovered, were jammed between Gil’s back and his chest at a wholly uncomfortable angle. Tavrek shifted slightly, which put one of his legs between Gil’s. With Tarvek’s back up against the far wall Gil was forced to lean into him to shut the door behind them. Gil’s back was to Tarvek, and they were pressed together from legs to shoulder. This was the worst thing that had ever happened to Tarvek.

A distraction came from the sound of voices in the office, “Why are you even still here? The job’s been done.”

Anderson’s voice, and he was talking to someone else. The assassin most likely. The assassin said something else too quiet to make out. Anderson’s voice though was easy enough to hear when he replied, 

“Killing the detective is only going to make people more suspicious! They already think its the cartographers, just lie low. Once opening night comes and no one else is dead Voltaire will take them off retainer and that will be that.”

The assassin's reply sounded like a low hissing. Tarvek wondered if perhaps they were a construct. Gil was holding his breath. He’d pressed back against Tarvek harder at the mention of killing. Tarvek was half afraid he might burst out of the closet and attack whomever was in the room. A move that would be enormously stupid. Tarvek wiggled one hand around until he got a hold on Gil’s waist band. Then he tilted his head so his mouth was right up against Gil’s ear.

“Don’t.”

Gil let out his breath in a sudden hiss, and something thumped against Tarvek’s foot. Probably the death ray. The sound was loud enough that both of them went completely still. 

“What was that,” said Anderson.

Tarvek tucked his papers under the arm holding Gil and drew a knife with his free one, poised to throw the second the door to the closet was opened. Then there was another sound. A bang from the outside. Tarvek began to count to keep his arm steady he’d reached seven when Anderson’s voice came again.

“Well go find out.”

A door opened and then there was silence for a moment then Anderson shouted,

“Who the blazes are you?”

The only response that came was a series of thumps. Then someone moved close enough to the closet door to block the light streaming through the cracks. There was soft clicking noise than the sound of footsteps retreating. Then silence. Tarvek started his count up again. When he’d hit forty five and there was still no sound Gil whispered,

“I think they’re gone.”

“Most likely” Tarvek whispered back.

Gil hesitated for three whole seconds and then leaned forward to open the door. It rattled, but didn’t open. He rattled the door again. Then pressed back into Tarvek before throwing himself at the door. When that failed he tried to kick it, but just ended up kicking Tarvek in the knee on the back swing. Tarvek grunted and slid his knife back up his sleeve. He hauled backwards a bit with his grip on Gil’s waistband. There was nowhere to haul Gil too, but the action at least vented some of Tarvek’s annoyance.

“Will you stop that!” He growled.

Miraculously Gil stopped then after a moment of silence he mumbled, “The door’s locked.”

“Yes I noticed.” Tarvek sighed. 

This was the absolute worst turn of events he could’ve imagined. Tarvek was beginning to wish the assassin had opened the closet door, or Gil had flung himself out of it. Either scenarios’s most probable outcome was both of them dead, but that was preferable to being pressed up against Gil in the confines of the closet. Someone would find them eventually, but not before something went hideously wrong. Tarvek considered dosing Gil with one of his sedatives, which would at least allow him to freak out privately. Knowing Gil though, he’d probably shake off the effects and just be pissed. The only thing worse than being stuck in a closet with Gil, would be stuck in a closet with a Gil who was justifiably pissed at Tarvek.

“Now what?” asked Gil.

“Now we wait, hopefully for Tobias or Colette to come looking for us.” Tarvek said.

Gil groaned and began to shift. He was trying to turn which resulted in his elbow in Tarvek’s ribs and his shoulder in his collarbone. The pain at the motion at least dealt with one of Tarvek’s problems. He tried to shove Gil back the way he’d been, but the oaf resisted

“Stop that.” growled Tarvek still trying to be quiet, just in case.

“If we’re going to be stuck here, I’m going to at least try and be comfortable.” Gil retorted at a normal volume.

He did have a point. The closet was slightly wider than it was deep. Tarvek let go of Gil’s waistband and tried to stuff himself into the corner so Gil could twist sideways. He ended up with a couple bruises in the process, but eventually they twisted so they were facing each other with their backs to the side walls. Unfortunately the width narrowed past the door and with the hooks lining the wall, Gil was forced to lean forward to compensate for the breadth of his shoulders. This put his face a scant two inches away from Tarvek’s, even when Tarvek pressed his head firmly up against the wall.

Their legs were tangled together still and Gil had one foot pressed against the wall Tarvek was leaning on and an arm braced against the door to fit properly. Tarvek was slouched slightly so his legs could stretch to Gil’s end of the closet. He contemplated briefly sliding to the floor, but that would only end up with him straddling one of Gil’s legs. Instead he twisted so his back was properly braced against the wall, and his legs weren’t touching Gil’s. Now instead of being pressed up against Gil, the other man’s body loomed tantalizingly close. They stood in silence for a minute while Tarvek focused on not moving and not breathing too deeply. The tension between them thickened as the silence continued until eventually Gil cracked.

“So… how are you?”

Tarvek blinked up at Gil in bafflement. He couldn’t make out the expression on Gil’s face in the near dark. He had no idea what the purpose of such a question was.

“Cramped. Stuck in a closet. You?” Tarvek responded filling his voice with false cheer.

Gil huffed out a soft laugh, his breath ghosting across Tarvek’s face.

“I meant in general.” Gil clarified.

Tarvek was no less confused. They didn’t do pleasantries. Their greetings were familiar insults, their small talk was technical debates. The depth of their relationship, the swath of emotions between them didn’t allow for pleasantries. To hear the commonplace question now felt like the worst insult Gil had ever delivered.

“Fine.” Tarvek forced out through gritted teeth.

He could feel Gil frowning at him. 

“Colette said people were trying to kill you.”

No this was worse than pleasantries. Gil sounded concerned. Which was obviously false. Tarvek resisted the urge to punch him. If only, because the confines of the closet meant he couldn’t get any real power behind a swing. 

“People are always trying to kill me.” Tarvek forced his voice to be even; steady like he was discussing the weather, “It’s hardly cause for complaint.

Gil shifted above him, “It shouldn’t be.” he grumbled.

“Yes, well, some of us are people worth killing, that’s just how it is.” Tarvek tried not to think of burning up ship manifests and one ancient family bible to cover up any evidence that Gil was someone worth killing.

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

One of Gil’s fists thumped the wall next to Tarvek’s head. Tarvek jolted.

“Life isn’t fair Holzfaller, the world doesn’t conform to your morality. Besides you’re hardly a paragon of virtue with your pirates and show girls and the pure swath of destruction that follows in your wake.”

“Stop making this about me. This is about you and your death wish.”

“I have a death wish? I don’t fight clanks with my bare hands, or antagonize mad sparks while they have me hooked up to their untested inventions. I just have a family who thinks assasination is a fun party favor.”

“Your making this about me again.” 

Gil was growling now a deep primal rumble that was making Tarvek’s skin heat. Worse he was leaning forward pressing himself further into Tarvek’s space. Tarvek tried to retreat, but his back was already up against the wall. Gil bared down on him and Tarvek panicked. He twisted and slammed his elbow into Gil’s gut. Gil grunted as Tarvek forced the air out of his lungs. Instead of moving back against the far wall, like Tarvek had wanted him too. Gil collapsed. He crouched down on the floor pushing Tarvek’s legs straight. 

It got Gil out of his face though, and Tarvek could breathe again. Gil wasn’t taller than him, but he was broader. The way he’d been positioned in the closet had put Gil above Tarvek and Tarvek had felt boxed in. He pressed his palms flat against the wall of the closet and focused on his breathing. He did not want to have a panic attack right now. Gil was pressed against him now, the top of his head leaning into Tarvek’s thigh while he gasped. 

“What the hell was that for?” Gil grumbled once he’d caught his breath.

“For being a big looming brute.” Tarvek answered his voice flat, that answer was far more honest than he’d been trying to be.

Gil’s head moved pulling away from Tarvek’s thigh. Tarvek looked down at him. Gil was looking up at him, he was half crouched awkwardly putting him at almost hip height. Tarvek was thankful for the dimness of the closet saving him from the image of Gil looking up at him. As it was Tarvek’s imagination was making up for the poor lighting by filling in the gaps. It put that guileless smile on Gil’s face and his hair falling wildly in his face, cheeks flushed. Tarvek shook his head to dispel the image. Thankfully, Gil spoke before Tarvek’s imagination could make a come back.

“I am not fighting you in a closet.”

“Then you’re more intelligent than I thought.”

Silence settled on them again, but Gil didn’t stand back up. He shifted a bit, so he was more kneeling and less crouching. It put one of Tarvek’s feet between his knees, a singular point of contact. Tarvek forced his gaze on the far wall. Having Gil farther away should have made the scent of him fainter, but they’d already been in the closet long enough for Gil’s cologne to hang like a mist in the air. There was absolutely no way for Tarvek to pretend he was alone in the closet. This silence hung thicker then the previous one. Again it was Gil who broke under the tension and spoke again.

“That’s the one insult that doesn’t stick, not even from you.”

“What?” Tarvek who had been doing smoke knight breathing exercises was caught off guard by the comment.

“When you call me stupid, or dimwitted, or an idiot, it doesn’t hurt it just tells me I’m winning.”

Tarvek inhaled sharply, “I do mean it, I have never met anyone as obtuse as you.”

“Nope.” Gil sounded almost cheerful, “I’m the only one who can keep up with you and you know it.”

Damn the man, damn him. “There’s a difference between being able to build a functional thinking engine and being able to unwind a political plot.”

“Oh, I’m not half the sneak you are, but I bet I could figure out anyone else’s plot.”

Tarvek snorted, “I doubt that.”

“Let’s make a bet.”

“I’m not one of your libertine friends, I don’t gamble.” That was a lie, everything Tarvek did was a gamble. A toss of the dice, a shot in the dark. He stacked the odds in his favor of course, but any plan no matter how intricately constructed, relied on a little bit of luck. 

“It’s not a gamble. It’s a game of wits. You think that I can’t play your twisty political games, so let me play. If I’m as bad as you think I am it should be easy to manipulate me into failure.”

Except, Tarvek knew that Gil could play his sort of games. Gilgamesh Holzfaller was a lot of things but first amongst them was intelligent. He was the sparkiest spark in all of Paris, if he put his mind to it he could be a top player on the political field. Tarvek didn’t want Gil to step onto that battlefield. To play and play well would force Gil to sacrifice those morals of his. It would instill in Gil the paranoia that Tarvek lived with. It would take that bright shining goodness in him and lock it away in a box. Tarvek didn’t want that to happen. 

“You’re no one Holzfaller, you’re not even a pawn in this game. You can’t become a King just because you’ve decided you have to prove you’re better at me in this too.”

“Anyone can become a pawn, and when a pawn makes it to the far side of the board it becomes a Queen. And everyone knows the Queen is the strongest player in the game.”

For a moment, just a moment Tarvek took out one of his secret fantasies and spun it around. He’d played with the idea of making Gil one of his pawns. He’d had great and mighty plans when he was eight and they were friends and all of them featured Gil as a knight at his back. These days they were a bit more bitter, but still he fiddled with the idea of seducing Gil away from the Baron and the Pax Transylvania to serve instead Tarvek as Storm King. The image Gil painted fit into that daydream perfectly. Gil had already earned the favor and support of the Master of Paris. With his spark who else could he win over? Could he with that guileless smile and courageous heroics win over the hearts of Europa just like the Heterodyne boys had? Could he do it all in Tarvek’s name? 

He shut the dream down before he got to attached. Even if he could trust Gil, which he certainly couldn’t, it was a bad idea. Gil had already thrown him over in favor of the Baron once, when Tarvek had been the only thing Gil had. Now when Gil had half of Paris fawning at his feet, why would he choose Tarvek? Tarvek couldn’t even keep a smoke knight alive for more than a week, he couldn’t protect Gil. And if anyone in his family figured out exactly how much Gil meant to Tarvek they wouldn’t rest until they destroyed him. No, Gil was safer with the Baron, the Baron at least could protect Gil. It was all Tarvek could do to keep his father from learning Anveka was a spark and trying to put her in his infernal machine. So long as Tarvek kept Gil at arm’s length he protected both of them.

“I think your taking this metaphor too far.”

“The point holds. I could kick your ass at wesel politics, and you’re too scared to challenge me to it.”

Scared was the right word, but not for the reasons Gil thought.

“Please. You’ll only embarrass yourself.”

“Scaared” sing songed Gil.

Tarvek had absolutely no idea why Gil was being so persistent about this. He also had no idea how to talk him out of it. At this point if Tarvek kept refusing his challenge, Gil might get involved just to spite him and that would be disastrous. Tarvek wished Colette was here she would know what direction to point Gil to minimize the collateral damage. It was all Tarvek could do to keep his emotions in check. 

“Fine.” Tarvek conceded, “I look forward to you making a fool of yourself.”

Gil surged back to his feet, vibrating with excitement

“Stakes?”

Stakes? Right he wanted a bet. Tarvek bit his lip and discarded the first five prizes that came to mind. It might be fun to jokingly ask for a kiss just to see what face Gil made, but he couldn’t see his face right now.

“I win, I get to dress you for a week.”

“I win, you have to come for a night on the town with me, Holzfaller style.”

Gil mimicked Tarvek’s snootiest tone when he said Holzfaller style. He sounded ridiculous, Tarvek swallowed a giggle. 

“Right, so I’ll be catching your would be assassin then.”

“What?” Tarvek who thought he’d finally found his footing in this conversation, found himself stumbling again.

“The challenge, a political plot you couldn’t unravel. I’m going to catch whoever is trying to kill you.”

No no NO NO! Absolutely not, it was one thing for Gil to play at politics, it was another thing entirely to get involved with family. That had been precisely the outcome Tarvek had been trying to avoid. He surged forward grabbing Gil by the waistcoat and shaking him.

“Are you insane? This isn’t a fun little game, this is family. My family. They’ll eat you alive and consider it a disappointing canape.”

“Are you saying you know who’s trying to kill you?”

Gil, stupid simple Gil sounded confused.

“I have a list, of all the people who are actively trying to kill me. Nine out of ten are related to me.”

“Who’s the tenth.”

“You.” growled Tarvek, it was actually Vrin but he couldn’t  _ say _ that. 

“I’m not trying to kill you.” 

Tarvek found his grip loosening at the genuine hurt in Gil’s voice. 

“I know that.” Tarvek said softly.

Gil’s hands came over Tarvek’s where they gripped the lapels of Gil’s waistcoat. Gil’s hands were rough. Tarvek hadn’t felt them on his skin in a decade, but he’d imagined them just like this; rough and calloused and work worn. He’d underestimated the warmth of them, and the size, they gulfed Tarvek’s fine thin fingers. Tarvek stared down at where he could almost make out the shape of Gil’s hands over his own. Gil’s thumbs rubbed softly against Tarvek’s knuckles.

“I-” Gil spoke his voice cracking slightly.

Tarvek looked up at him desperate to make out his face in the darkness. Gil cleared his throat and started again.

“Tarvek, I-”

Before Gil could finish the door opened. Gil must have been resting some of his weight against it, because he over balanced and toppled out the door. Tarvek’s grip on his waistcoat meant he toppled after him. They landed in a heap on the floor. Tarvek landed on Gil’s chest with a grunt. He braced for an attack, when it didn’t come he sat up carefully. He found Colette, Tobias and Gil’s pirate staring down at them. Colette and the pirate were smirking, Tobias looked mildly concerned. He’d been the one to open the closet door. Tarvek managed to slide the papers into a pocket without any of them noticing. 

“Hello boys, having fun?” Colette’s eyes danced with amusement.

Tarvek snorted and stood up, straightening his clothes, “Not quite, thank you Monsieur for the timely rescue.”

Very timely, now Tarvek would spend the next month wondering what Gil had been about to say. Gil looked equally disgruntled at being interrupted though he smiled sheepishly as he stood up there was a stiffness in his movements that signaled his frustration. Tarvek suddenly realised he DID NOT want to know what Gil was going to say. 

“Are you all right?” Tobias asked still looking concerned

“Bit cramped, but I’ll live. I solved your mystery.”

“Step ahead of you Squealy.” Dupree said.

Tarvek had mostly been avoiding looking at the pirate, so he was surprised when she dropped a body on the ground. The assassin, Tarvek presumed. That followed the general progression of Tarvek’s life in Paris. He spent a lot of time cleverly figuring out what was going on and being subtle, and here barges in Gil and his pirate who catch the villain at the last minute and get all the glory. At least this time Dupree was showing up Gil as well. 

Gil turned his attention on Dupree, “Who’s this?”

“You’re assassin. I caught him.” Dupree placed one foot on the assassin's body and struck a triumphant pose.

“You killed him” Gil sounds tired when he says it.

“Yup.” says Dupree still posing.

“Which means we can’t question him. Because he’s dead.”

Well there were ways to revive people and question them, but the man had been dead a while, and they would have to haul his body back to the campus, and then create the machinery and chemical solutions for the process, and that would mean the body leaving prime revivification time, and then the process might not even work. Plus, Tarvek still had to visit the Library. 

“Pssh. You don’t need to question him. Squealy’s got the whole thing figured out.”

Gil turned to look at Tarvek. Tarvek adjusted his cuffs.

“Anderson hired the assassin to threaten Madam Bordeaux into abandoning the play. She was performing drunk and her understudy far outstripped her. Firing her though, would mean taking her name off the playbills and losing ticket sales. A disappearance though would attract attention, everyone would want to see the opera someone didn’t want them to see enough to remove the leading lady. What no one was prepared for was that instead of being suitably frightened, Madam Bordeaux would fight back hard. At that point the assassin may have killed her just to spare his own life.”

Gil’s eyes narrowed slightly when Tarvek didn’t continue. Tarvek kept his face steady and calm, just the tiniest bit smug. Tobias nodded along and Colette looked the tiniest bit proud. That filled him with a warm tingly feeling. Gil didn’t say anything at all. Though he was staring at Tarvek like he could read his thoughts through sheer force of will. With an effort Tarvek ignored him and even Dupree who was now fiddling worryingly with a knife, in favor of the Voltaires. 

Tobias looked first horrified then resigned. He grew up in Paris he knows how these things are, but not everyone spends their lives knee deep in intrigue. Colette cast a disdainful look at the body of the dead assassin. Then she skimmed an assessing look at Gil and Tarvek’s clothes. Tarvek gave her a little shrug. Colette narrowed her eyes at them in response. She was disappointed somehow. Tarvek resisted the urge to straighten his collar. 

“How’d you know who to catch?” Gil asked kicking the body slightly.

“Easy!” said Bang, “When the other Voltaire said you’d been attacked I simply threatened everybody until someone started shooting!”

Gil sighed heavily and put his face in his hands.

“I checked the bullet marks in the walls against the gun he had, he’s the right guy.” Colette added.

“Well then. Where’s Anderson?” Tarvek asked.

“Already packed him off with the constabulary.” Colette informed, “Found him in the room with the assassin. He confessed to everything.” Colette cast a glance at Bang that said exactly how that confession had been extracted.

“I suppose you don’t need me at all then.” Tarvek said exasperated.

“Oh you made a valuable target for our friend here, cherie.” Colette smiled sharp and a little wild.

Tarvek snorted.

“Ah, don’t sulk.” 

Colette swept forward and hooked Gil onto one arm and Tarvek onto the other. She pivoted and hauled them both from the room. Dupree followed behind cheerfully. She was probably happy because she’d gotten to kill someone. Tarvek did sulk on Colette’s arm all the way out of the theater. He’d done all that work and thinking just for Dupree to show up and threaten people into confessing everything. It was gone half past nine and Tarvek had nothing to show for the day. He would sulk if he wanted to. On the street Colette released him and Gil to hail a cab. 

“Come I’ll treat you two to drinks as thanks.” Colette said as a cab drew to an obedient halt for her.

“And dinner.” Gil added checking his watch.

“Of course.” Said Colette still smiling.

“Thank you, but I’ll have to decline. I have a previous arrangement.” Tarvek still had to get to the library.

Colette frowned but didn’t argue. Instead she grabbed Gil and dragged him to the cab, “Next time then.”

Tarvek watched them leave then set off on foot for the nearest entrance to the underground. He told himself he didn’t want to go to dinner. It had been excruciating enough spending the afternoon and evening with Gil tailing him. Tarvek had about hit his limit. Besides he had to maintain his perfect borrowing record, or the next time he got caught up in Gil’s insanity in the Library they’ll revoke his library card too. He tries not to think about Gil celebrating, about him dragging the entirety of whatever pub Colette brought him too into his enthusiasm. Tarvek would have to sit there and watched while every girl in the place hung off Gil. He definitely did not want to do that. Tarvek kept lying to himself right up until he finally managed to lie down in bed. Then he dreamed of the encounter of the closet going very differently

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah you thought they'd kiss didn't you? Nah, this fic was intended to be canon compliant. The closet was to force them to talk to each other. But I'm writing a sequel which will not be canon compliant. So.... Anyways sorry if the ending was anitclimatic its supposed to be a demonstration of how Tarvek makes Plans, but then Gil just Shows Up. Next chapter is the epilouge. That's half written, should be up tomorrow. Free prompt written for anyone who guesses what Gil was going to say!


	5. An Epilogue and a Conspiracy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue! And a subtle plug for the sequel. Which is literally me looking at my plot device of "Tarvek is temporarily smoke knight-less" and going Hmmmm but why? This is it for the Murder in the Palais Garnier though, hope you enjoyed it!

Colette growled into her empty glass. Gil had gotten up to fetch another round, but the group of girls that clung to him like flies were slowing him down. Next to her Bang downed her drink and patted her back. The motion was supposed to be commiserating, but it was a little too aggressive to actively convey the meaning. Not that Bang cared.

“All that work and effort and what do I have to show for it? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Colette could yell her frustration out here, the noise of the pub would swallow it.

“You can’t have honestly thought it would be that easy.” Bang replied.

“Of course not! But I thought forcing them to work together would’ve done something, but Tarvek wouldn’t so much as come out to dinner.” Colette lifted her glass only to find it empty, “And I thought you said you’d help?” she turned an accusing glare at Bang and jabbed her with a finger.

Anyone else would’ve lost their finger, but Bang knew better. She didn’t want the roof to collapse on her. Besides Bang like Colette she was fun. Especially this little scheme of hers.

“I locked them in the closet!” Bang pointed out.

She’d really thought that would’ve worked. Gil was dumb, but he wasn’t that dumb. And Bang always thought Squealy had a spine somewhere under all the frills. Apparently they were both idiots.

“That should’ve worked.” Colette had moved on from anger to despair.

“What should’ve worked?” Gil asked appearing at the table with a tray full of drinks and two girls hanging decoratively off his arms.

Bang snatched two of the glasses off the tray and smirked at the girls. One of them glared at her while the other averted her gaze. Bang wouldn’t permanently injure either of them. Certainly, Gil would say something soon to cause at least one of them to dump a drink on his head, and that was always hilarious. Still, it was fun to terrify the girls Gil attracted. The poor dumb idiot wouldn’t know what to do if any of them stuck around long enough to get what they wanted from him. Better to stick him with the Prince, who could certainly manage Gil’s idiocy. 

Bang liked Squealy. Mostly she liked the sounds he made when she so much as touched him, but especially the ones he made when she applied a knife. The best part though, was that he let her do it. Bang had followed the Prince home one day, because Gil had been worried but also had been being a baby and refused to do it himself. Bang had planned on appearing in the Prince’s room just to see what kind of horrified shriek that produced. Instead she’d almost walked in on an assasination attempt. One in which she watched the prince dodge an attack so quickly, Bang didn’t see him move, and put the assassin's own knife through their throat. 

The prince could do that, but he wouldn’t so much as lift a finger against Bang. It meant he was smart, smart in a way mad boys weren’t. So far Squealy and Klaus were the only exceptions. Gil could use some of those smarts. Sure, his stupidity was fun and entertaining, but it also put him in danger. If Gil ever got seriously hurt than Klaus would skin Bang alive. Hooking them up also had the fun bonus of pissing Klaus off in a way that wouldn’t direct his ire at her. Gil would get to feel his wrath about it, and Klaus was at his funniest when Gil got in his way. All in all it was a good plan and had Bang’s full support. So she’d keep it secret.

“Colette and I were discussing interrogation techniques!” Bang said cheerily then launched into a description of the best places to stick knives to make people talk.

Glarey girl looked sick at the way the conversation was going, which meant the other girl was going to be the one to get pissed at Gil. 

“Stop! Stop! I’m sorry I asked.” Gil said eventually cutting off a truly spectacular description of the effect of literally twisting the knife.

Bang pretended to pout while Gil tried to apologize to the girls. The squeamish one seemed mollified by his appeasements, but the other one got pissed when Gil implied that girls didn’t have the stomach for violence. Gil tried to apologize but ended up implying that it was just girls like her. Gil ended up with his drink in his hair and minus two hanger-ons. Bang laughed uproariously and Colette seemed cheered by the sight.

“It’s not me, it’s him. He’s just a disaster.” Colette said quietly enough Gil wouldn’t hear.

“And you’re just figuring that out?”

Colette sighed, “Well I’ll just have to plan around his stupidity.”

Bang smiled. She knew she like Colette for a reason, and it wasn’t just because Gil looked like he’d swallowed his tongue every time Bang flirted with her. They’d get Squealy and Gil together eventually, but there was sure to be much hilarity in the process. Bang was really starting to enjoy her new assignment even if it involved less killing and blowing stuff up then she usually preferred.

/

Tarvek panted against the stone wall of a manor house. He’d made it five blocks from Grandmother’s house before someone had tried to kill him. This time it’d been a smoke knight, one of Uncle Leopold’s. Which meant it wasn’t whomever had been going through his smoke knights like chocolate mimmoths. It did mean that rumor had already spread that Tarvek was without a guard. Which wasn’t good at all. He’d gotten maybe eight hours of sleep total in the past week, he was already running on Move It and willpower alone. Tarvek couldn’t afford the larger bullseye that had just been painted on his back.

After the incident at Palais Garnier, where Colette had been worried enough to enlist Gil into being his bodyguard Tarvek had swallowed his pride and gone to speak with his grandmother. It’d been a waste of time, worse even. Now everyone would know Tarvek didn’t have a smoke knight. Grandmother had informed Tarvek that she did not have an infinite supply of smoke knights and until he figured out who exactly was so determined to kill him he couldn’t have another. Of course, he could always reassign Violetta from Mechanicsburg, she’d be better than nothing.

She’d be dead in a week, is what she would be. That wasn’t a real option, Tarvek was beginning to wonder if he’d survive long enough for Violetta to even get here from Mechanicsburg. Tarvek emptied a vial of acid onto the dead smoke knight. He didn’t have time to haul the body off to an incinerator. He was in a bad spot, his grandparents had written him off as a liability. At this stage, they’d be forming a plan to better support Tweedle. Anyone else who was still vying for the throne themselves was going to take a stab at eliminating Tarvek while he was out of favor. Literally. 

This was very very bad. Tarvek’s best option was to catch the next train back to Sturmhalten. From there Veilchan would be capable of watching both his and Anveka’s back. Anveka still needed him to win, she’d help him regroup. Father probably wouldn’t even notice. He didn’t care about the rest of the family’s machinations. When they brought the Lady back they would simply mind control Europa into obedience. At the thought of the Other, Tarvek balked. No, he couldn’t go back to Sturmhalten and seducing young women to their death. He was going to stay in Paris even if it killed him. At this rate it probably would.

Tarvek waited until the body had dissolved beyond all possible revivification before he made his way back onto the street. He had to move quickly, there were very few people out and about in this part of the city. Once he made it back to the University Quarter he could vanish amongst the crowds. If he could make it that far. Tarvek was dead on his feet, and by the looks of it had at least three people following him. The University Quarter was miles away. Taking a cab would be faster, but it was also a convenient dark hidden place to kill him. Being on the street put him out in the open, which would make the smoke knights after him hesitate. Not for long though, he needed a plan and he needed one fast.

Tarvek took an abrupt turn at the next street and changed directions. There were four now, he wasn’t making it back to the University Quarter. He could’ve stayed at his grandparents’ manor, no one would kill him in it, but that would’ve given everyone else time to react. The next time he stepped off the grounds he’d be as good as dead. There was one other place though where no smoke knight would dare kill him. It was a lot closer than the University.

Tarvek made it to the Voltaire Chateau without being attacked again. He lost his tail when he clambered over the hedge. Tarvek navigated his way across the traps that were there mostly for show. If the Master really didn’t want him on the premises he’d have never made it over the hedge. That had been a bit of a gamble, but he’d been pretty sure he had clearance. The gardens were beautiful even in the late evening light as he meandered his way through them. From there it was up a trellis and through a window to Colette’s room.

Colette wasn’t in her room, but Tarvek wasn’t going to go looking for her. Just being in the building was enough protection. He probably could’ve passed out on the lawn. Though he’d end up arrested in the morning. Still, better than dead. Colette though could get Tarvek out of the house alive in the morning which was the real benefit to being here. Tarvek flopped down on a settee in her sitting room set his glasses on a table and fell asleep. He’d explain everything to Colette in the morning, but for now he let the week catch up to him. He was asleep in seconds. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And That's All Folks. Not really, there is a sequel in the works. But I'm gonna try and focus on the Paris Chronicles for a bit. Also I'm podficc-ing this, so that should be up soon-ish. Thanks for reading!


End file.
